The market maker (39 page)

Luis caught my eye, shrugged, and said, 'Tet's just say good-bye to Kerton and go."

Lord Kerton stood very upright as he held out his hand. The three of us shook it. Then Luis spoke to him quietly. "Why did you do it? You know Ricardo almost ruined you. Why did you sell to him?"

Kerton looked uncomfortable, but he answered Luis honestly. "A week ago this firm was worth ten million pounds. It's now worth eighty-eight. There comes a time when one should just take one's money and run. And I think this is the time."

And so we left, ignoring the new owner of Dekker Ward.

Sergio joined us for a subdued dinner that evening. Luis was disappointed by the defeat. But I couldn't help noticing the way he kept glancing at Isabel. She was alive, and that was all that really mattered.

Luis insisted on putting me up in the Savoy for another couple of nights, and I didn't complain. I knew I had a lot to worry about and plan, but with Isabel beside me, I just wanted to think about the present.

When we arrived back at our rooms there was a

message that someone was waiting to see Isabel and me in the American Bar downstairs.

It was Ricardo. He was sitting in the farthest comer of the bar, nursing a glass of fizzy water. He fit in well to these surroundings, immaculate in his suit, mono-grammed shirt, silk tie, wealthy Latin appearance.

Isabel and I both stopped dead when we saw him. ''What does he want?'' she said.

"I don't know. Let's find out."

Ricardo rose to his feet when we approached but didn't extend his hand. I hardly felt welcoming, and Isabel's look was as cold as ice.

"Nick, Isabel, thank you for seeing me/' he began.

"We didn't know it was you," said Isabel.

"No. You didn't, did you?" he said, as though it was an unfortunate omission on someone else's part. "But I'd be grateful if you could give me a few minutes. I'd like to continue the conversation Nick and I had recently."

It was a good way of winning my attention. "OK," I said, and sat down. Isabel followed my lead. Ricardo beckoned to a waiter and ordered a beer for me and a glass of white wine for Isabel. We waited for him to talk.

"I'm so pleased you were released unharmed, Isabel," he began. "You must have been through a terrible ordeal. And I'd like you to know that I had no part in your kidnapping."

He paused and looked at us both with his clear blue eyes. Leaning slightly forward, his hands toward us, his handsome face open and steady, he looked as though he was telling the truth. But Isabel and I just stared back at him. He would need to do better than that.

Ricardo let the pause go on for an uncomfortably long time before continuing. "I know you don't believe

me, and I suppose Fm not surprised. But listen to me. I think we can help each other.''

Still no response from us.

"You told me a lot I didn't know that day, Nick. That Isabel was still alive, and that her kidnappers were demanding that the takeover be pulled."

"You didn't seem surprised to hear it," I said.

"I didn't know how to react." He looked up, grabbing my eye again. "I didn't know whether you were telling me the truth. You have to admit you were quite a devious opponent. You could have been putting pressure on me to give in to Bloomfield Weiss. But then when you mentioned Eduardo's name, it occurred to me that you might have something. Maybe Eduardo was doing things without my knowledge. It wouldn't have been the first time."

"And was he?"

"No. I spoke to him, and he denied it."

"Of course he did."

"Nick, I can tell with my brother. I know when he's hiding something, even if I can't always tell what it is. And I can tell when he hasn't got a clue. Believe me, he didn't have a clue."

"But he did get some heavies to beat me up and wreck my flat, didn't he? "

Ricardo shrugged. "I'm sorry about that. He gets overenthusiastic sometimes."

"And you fixed Russell Church to make sure I wouldn't work at the School of Russian Studies again."

Ricardo nodded. "That's true. I've always been tough on people who walk out on the team. As you know, I was disappointed in you. I felt you'd let me down."

I could feel the anger boiling up inside me. "I'd let you down!" I almost shouted. "And what about Martin

Beldecos? Was his death a result of overenthusiasm? Or was it just disappointment?"

''No, no, it wasn't. I thought he was the victim of a hotel burglary gone wrong. And when you were stabbed on Ipanema beach, I thought that was just a mugging."

"I know it wasn't just a mugging," I said.

"Well, now I suspect it wasn't too," said Ricardo. "In fact, I suspect you know quite a lot about what's going on that I don't. That's why I'm here. Tell me what happened in Brazil."

"Do you know Francisco Aragao?"

"Ah." Ricardo raised his eyebrows. "Of course I do. He's Luciana's brother. Does he have something to do with this?"

"He certainly does." I wasn't sure whether Ricardo really had no idea of Francisco's involvement, but I saw no harm in telling Ricardo all I knew. Isabel joined in when she described what had happened to her after she had been kidnapped.

Ricardo listened to every word, weighing each new piece of information, putting it in its proper place. When I had finally finished, he didn't say anything. He just looked up and stared unfocused toward the door. Thinking.

"Well?" I said, hoping to provoke a response.

"Hm?"

"Well? Does Francisco invest drug money with DekkerWard?"

Ricardo's eyes focused. "Not that we know of. We have no record of him investing with us. Every investor is known personally by one of us, and we don't deal with anyone who has known links to drugs. In my book, Francisco definitely has drug links, and I've

spent most of my career trying to avoid dealing with him. I thought Td succeeded."

"But someone at Dekker must have dealt with Francisco?"

Ricardo shrugged. "You may be right. I don't know. It's all very mysterious, isn't it?" He paused for a moment. "Of course, if I did discover that Francisco had somehow been laundering drug money through Dekker Ward without my knowledge, I'd be quite concerned. I'd certainly let the proper authorities know."

Suddenly, he gulped his fizzy water, stood up, and reached into his wallet for a ten-pound note for the drinks. "I've got to go back to the office now. Whether you believe me or not, Isabel, I'm very glad to see you alive. And of course you still work for Dekker Ward. You're welcome back in the office anytime."

Isabel shook her head, but allowed herself a small sn\ile. "No, thank you. I think you'll be receiving my resignation letter soon."

"That, too, I can understand." He bent over and kissed her on both cheeks. "Good luck," he said. "And, Nick, I'm sorry it didn't work out at Dekker. You've been a difficult opponent. I would have liked to have kept you on my side."

I couldn't help smiling as I shook his hand.

"Now, I really have to be going. We've got a little crisis on. One of our clients has started to sell all his bonds. You probably remember him, Nick. Alejo? One of Jamie's. Jamie, I'm afraid, has gone home in disgust. Sometimes things get to you in this business. Oh, well. Good-bye."

I watched him walk out of the bar, stunned. Suddenly, I knew Ricardo had been telling the truth.

"Nick? Nick?" I heard Isabel next to me.

"Oh, um, Isabel. Fm sorry. I've got to go somewhere." "Nick, what do you mean? It's late." "I'll try to get back tonight, if I can. If not, I'll see you tomorrow morning." I kissed her quickly, and I was off.

31

The taxi fare to Dockenbush Farm was huge. I paid off the driver and steadied myself before walking up to the door. It was a warm summer night, with stars and moon illuminating the farmhouse in front of me. Pools of light spilled out of two downstairs windows onto the gravel driveway. An owl called from somewhere above and behind me.

Ricardo had known it was Jamie, I thought. As soon as I had told him about Francisco, he had worked it out. Alejo was Jamie's account, ostensibly acting for a secretive Mexican family. But in reality Alejo worked for Francisco. Luciana had indeed been Francisco's intermediary, but with Jamie, not Ricardo. She had known Ricardo wouldn't do business with her brother. Now Francisco was scared, and, through Alejo, was selling everything he had with Dekker Trust.

And Ricardo had let me know this to give me a chance to get to Jamie first. I was sure I could rely on Ricardo to deal with Francisco.

I rang the bell.

It took awhile before he answered. He had changed out of his suit into jeans and an old denim shirt. He leaned against the door.

"Oh, it's you. I thought someone would come, but I didn't think it would be you."

He reeked of whiskey. His eyes were shining, but not quite focused. I had seen Jamie the worse for wear many times before. This looked like another one.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure." He led the way through the hallway, and into the sitting room. Music was playing; I recognized a Leonard Cohen album that I hadn't heard since we were at Oxford. It had been a favorite with Jamie for about a term, and then he had forgotten it.

He slumped into an armchair. A crystal tumbler of whiskey three-quarters full perched on a small table next to him.

"Have a drink," he said.

I fetched the bottle, and went into the kitchen for some ice. Several days' dishes were piled in the sink, and used Marks and Spencer's packets cluttered the work surfaces. Kate's absence was having its effect.

Jamie was staring at me as I returned. I sat opposite him. Leonard droned in the background.

"Isabel's free," I said.

"Is she OK?"

"Yes. Considering she spent two months locked up in a tiny space."

"Good," said Jamie. He looked up at me. "You know, don't you?"

I nodded.

He sighed and swirled his whiskey around before sipping some. "I'm glad they looked after her. They told me they would."

"By 'they,' you mean Francisco?"

Jamie nodded. "How much do you know?"

"I know that Francisco opened an account with

Dekker Trust through you to launder money. The account was managed by Alejo in Miami, who you claimed worked for some rich Mexican family you'd known since you were at Gumey Kroheim. He did huge business with you. Then I suppose Marhn Belde-cos began to get suspicious?"

Jamie snorted. ''He was a jerk. So officious! If he'd been like any normal compliance guy, we wouldn't have had a problem. But he always checked on everything. And if he'd found proof, he would have gone straight to the authorities. There would have been no chance of getting Ricardo or Eduardo to cover anything up."

"Did he find anything?"

"He was getting there. He wanted to visit Alejo in Miami after he'd been to Caracas."

"So you had him killed."

Jamie bit his lip. "I didn't want him killed. But Francisco insisted. I didn't want him to do it."

"And me? What about me? You wanted me killed as well?"

"No," said Jamie. "No." He shook his head, staring straight at me. He sighed. "Francisco wanted you dead. I'd told him how close you were to figuring out what was happening. When you mentioned you wanted to talk to me about a fax for Martin Beldecos, I looked for it in your desk. I found that, with your request for a contact at the DEA, and the response. I took all of them. I didn't want you talking to the DEA."

He gulped his whiskey. "I told Francisco it had been stupid to kill Martin. It raised the stakes. Suddenly it wasn't just a white-collar crime we were on the line for, it was murder. Two murders would be obvious. But he went ahead with it anyway. When I found out what

had happened to you in Brazil, I was furious with him. But there wasn't much I could do by then."

I believed him. "So, why did you kidnap Isabel?"

Jamie glanced up at me. ''It wasn't Isabel we were trying to kidnap. It was you."

"Me?"

"Yes. I could tell that you were just about to give up on Dekker, and then you'd become really dangerous. Kidnapping you was the only way I could think of of taking you out of the picture and keeping you alive. I told Francisco it would give us time to cover our tracks and allow the trail to go cold. And if we hadn't kidnapped you, Francisco would have had you killed by now. I knew you'd told Isabel a lot about what you'd found out, so it seemed a good idea to take her as well."

I remembered telling Jamie I had discussed Francisco Aragao with her. And to think he'd told me I couldn't trust her!

"Besides, Isabel was the perfect cover," he went on. "It made it seem like this was a standard Rio kidnapping. And it worked too. Even after you escaped, you were so taken up with the negotiations that you forgot about all the other stuff."

"Why didn't you release her?"

"I wanted to. But after the police raided the kidnappers' hideout, Francisco wanted her killed. And the kidnappers themselves wanted a ransom first. It was a real mess." He looked up from his glass, willing me to understand. His face was pale and lined as he recalled the strain of the last few weeks. It was amazing I hadn't noticed it before; he had hidden it well.

"So that's why the ransom demand dropped so fast at the end?"

"Yes. But we reached a compromise. We'd keep her

alive, but in captivity, and we'd let her family and Dekker think she was dead/'

"You knew where she was all the time?"

Jan\ie nodded. "I was relieved when I saw you were getting nowhere with the authorities. Until Ricardo told me that someone had put Bloomfield Weiss up to take over Dekker. I couldn't let that go ahead. Our little scheme would have been found out in no time."

"So you used Isabel to force me to get the takeover called off?"

Jamie stared at his glass. "It was worth a try. We had to do something."

I sat back in the chair, drinking my whiskey. Here, alone with Jamie, having a quiet drink in his house as I'd done so many times before, it seemed absurd that we were discussing money laundering, kidnap, murder. Three months ago this part of Jamie's life, what he did in the City between seven in the morning and eight at night, had meant nothing to me. Now I knew.